Cas Finally Breaks Down
by RoundKick
Summary: Castiel finally crossed the line; he is mentally breaking down and he is doing it in front of Dean. Shows the non-romantic side of Destiel. Shows the trust and need and support between Dean and Cas. Rated M for very dark thoughts and themes.
1. Chapter 1

Just as Dean Winchester pulled into the driveway of The Hills Motel in Lincoln Nebraska, it started to pour. Dean knew the rain was bound to fall as soon as he walked out of the hotel room earlier in the morning with his brother, Sam. He could feel the humidity in the air and the ominous look of the clouds above. It didn't take long for sweat to accumulate on the back of his neck, soaking the rim of his collared shirt; so, when the rain started to fall, Dean could not admit that he was surprised. His brother, who was inconveniently researching at the local library, had the only umbrella he owned. Dean grabbed his coat and slammed the door to his 1967 Chevy Impala closed; he then ran towards the safety of the motel scaffolding. Dean jogged past each motel room door in desperate search for room number nine; the rain was clouding his vision making it hard to see. By the time his found the keys that would unlock his motel room the rain has seeped through his thick, worn leather jacket into his dark gray cotton shirt.

As soon as Dean stepped into the dark motel room he shrugged off his jacket and dropped it in a pile on the floor. Just as he was about to start changing out of his wet clothing, Dean noticed a man sitting at the small table across the room. Although the man's back was facing Dean, Dean could see the man's dark hair and beige trench coat. He had a very slim and fit figure, although he was hunched over. His elbows rested on the table and head slightly drooped. "Cas, is that you?" said Dean as he walked over to Castiel. Castiel stared blankly at the wall in front of him, as if he hadn't heard a word of what Dean had said. He had a bottle of unidentifiable liquor in his hand; by the smell of it, Dean could tell it was something strong. Dean lightly chuckled. "Alright Cas lets get you to bed." Dean then patted his shoulder and went to hang up his coat. When he came back, Castiel still hadn't moved. Dean walked back over to the angel and snapping his fingers in front of his face. "Cas! Hello? Lets go." Just as Dean reached under Castiel's arms in attempt to pick him up, Cas slurred, "I… I-I did it." Castiel it so quietly that Dean didn't hear it. Castiel spoke up again, "I did it, Dean. I killed her," For a moment Dean paused, unsure of how he should answer. He ended up chuckling again and saying, "Cas you have had a lot to drink and you are stressed about the world going to shit. I get it. It gets me too, but even you and your feathery ass need to res-" "No Dean," Castiel's voice was low and rough. He spoke with a very uneven rhythm. Although Castiel's posture was hunched over, he looked as ridged as a tightly pulled wire; he was ready to snap at any moment. "I killed Claire. I killed my daughter, and I couldn't stop." Castiel's hands started to tremble. Cas' gaze remained glued to the wall. His intense blue eyes were focused on something that wasn't there, almost as if he was reimagining something, and it was playing right in front of him. A look of horror started to creep across Cas' face. Dean decided to take a hit at listening to the angel's drunken banter. "What? Castiel what happened?" Dean questioned. "What do you care Dean?" Castiel spoke in a hushed tone, but the words were still delivered with malice. "Since when do you ever care?" Castiel's stare finally met Dean's. Dean had never seen such a look of pure hatred in his life. Castiel's eyes were blood shot and his skin had a yellowish glow, just as a sick person's skin would be. But Cas was not sick. "Cas lets talk about this in the morning when you are well rested and thinking straight." Dean hated having emotional conversations. Especially when the person he was having them with was very drunk. Dean once again attempted to lift Castiel out of the chair. Castiel quickly whipped around and smacked Dean's hands away from his shoulder. "You know how long ago she died? Three months ago! Did you care? No!" Castiel stood up and threw the chair he was sitting in behind him. Dean realized that he had just stepped onto a very, very thin layer of ice. IF he said the wrong thing, the ice would crack and he would fall under. "Cas I didn't kn-" The angel interrupted him. "You didn't know? Of course you didn't know! Since when have you ever cared about me?" Cas paced closer to the one dresser in the room. He bit his bottom lip, trying to cover up its nervous quiver. Thunder boomed outside of the hotel room. Castiel jumped; the storm was right on top of them. Dean now understood that Cas was wounded, wounded in a way that was not visible to the eye. He soon apprehended that there was no avoiding this conversation. "You kicked me out of the bunker! I had nowhere to turn and you abandoned me! I was _human!_ I was lost in a way that you will never experience and you left me!" Castiel's voice cracked. He slowly started to walk towards Dean, although the liquor was making his steps heavy and uneven. "Cas why don't we take a deep breath and calm dow-" "Calm down? Are you about to tell me to calm down? I swear if one more person tries to tell me to fucking calm down then I will personally drag your sorry ass back to Hell. Back to where you belong." At that, Dean froze. Cas knew how sensitive of a topic that was for him, and he just brought it up like he was talking about tomorrow's weather. Cas was only inches away from Dean. The Dean could feel his hot breath on his face. The smell was unmistakably alcohol. Dean had never been left this speechless before. He had never seen Castiel so full of hatred. Dean drew a breath in to speak, but Cas beat him to it. "When you found me for the first time after the Leviathans left me, you fucking drove me into the ground! I had never hated myself so much for bringing that much chaos onto the world and all you did to help was insult me! You consistently reminded me of the mistakes I had made. You didn't let me move on! You didn't let me heal! I wanted it all to be over. I wanted to _die._ I wanted to take an angelic blade and stab myself through the _heart_. You know what I did instead? I stabbed it through Claire's!" Cas could no longer control the quiver in his lips. His hands had balled up into fists; his knuckles were a pale white, like hot fire. He reached for the liquor bottle and took a long drink. It felt like fire in his veins. He needed more, more. He needed to feel the pain that Claire felt when he had taken a blade, and stabbed it through her heart. Dean took Cas drinking as an opportunity to speak. "Well how was I supposed to know, Cas? You never told me shit! You were the one that let the Leviathans out and I was mad at you for turning the world to shit and-" "Exactly Dean," Castiel was practically shouting now. "Everyone of the people I have grown to call my family was mad at me! Everyone! But no one could have been madder at me than myself! The last thing I needed was more of it from you! You of all people I needed support from! I needed to know that someone still loved me! I needed to know that someone still fucking _cared!_ " The liquor wasn't strong enough anymore. Cas needed the white hot coals of fury and guilt and despair. He felt like a bomb about to explode, and he didn't care about the number of casualties he took down with him. Castiel felt the need to destroy, to burn. He needed to feel something. He needed to feel pain. That was the only thing that can make him feel better. Castiel turned around towards the dresser and pushed everything off of it. He ripped the lamp out of the socket and threw it across the room. The lamp broke into a million pieces, but it wasn't enough. He started smashing the glass plates on the floor causing rigid, sharp glass to cover the floor. But it wasn't enough. He started to punch the floor repeatedly. Cas's knuckles split in half. Blood started to ooze down his arms. "Cas stop!" Dean rushed over to grab Cas' wrists but Castiel punched him right across the jaw. Dean flew backwards against the wall. The unexpected punch had sent him into a daze. Castiel took this time to stand up and search through the drawers of the dresser until he found a stashed angel blade. Lightening cracked outside. The rain had not stopped coming down. Cas couldn't take it anymore. Too many lives were lost because of him. It was time for him to pay the price. He slowly held the angel blade out in front of him. He could barely wrap his fingers around the blade without dropping it; his hands shook too hard. The cold metal felt like fire in his hands. Every time lightening struck, the light bounced off the blade and onto the angel's face, highlighting his tired, angry eyes. He was ready. He imagined the blade pushed into his heart. He was ready. Ready for it to be over. Dean pushed himself off of the floor just in time to see the angel holding a blade to his heart. Dean could not lose another family member. He couldn't lose Castiel. "No Castiel stop!" Dean leaped forward and grabbed Castiel's wrists. He started fighting Cas for the blade. "Dean stop!" Castiel screamed. He kicked and punched and flailed with all of his might; he needed the blade back. He needed to suffer. He needed to die. "Dean I need to do this!" Dean grabbed the blade in Castiel's hand. "I need to-" Castiel dropped the blade and fell into Dean. Cas couldn't take it anymore; he started to cry. The tears rolled down his face harder than the rain fell from the sky. It was uncensored and pure. All of the emotions, all of the pain, suffering, and confusion of the past couple of years came out and flowed down his pale face. Cas started to scream. He shrieked and wailed and cried until his voice became so hoarse that he couldn't speak. Castiel tried to stand back up, but he simply could not. Dean wrapped his arms around Castiel, supporting him with the little strength he had left. Cas clung to him; he didn't think he could ever let go. If he let go, then he would fall, and Cas wasn't sure he would be able to get back up. Dean took in a shaky breath. 'He is safe.' Dean thought. 'Safe, and broken. Broken beyond my repair. I broke Cas. And now I can't put him back together.' Dean's breath hitched at that thought. He off all things just wanted to sleep, but he knew he had to be strong for Cas, just as he is strong for Sammy, and the rest of his loved ones. "I'm sorry Cas. It's going to be ok. I am here." Dean whispered into the angel's ear. Cas wrapped his fingers around the hem of Dean's shirt; he needed something to steady him. "I can't, I can't, I can't, I can't." Castiel Started to chant quietly to himself. "Cas, stop. It is over. Let go." Castiel had not stopped crying. He couldn't. He thought that he would never stop. All the things he had done; all the people he had killed; nothing could ever make up for it. Nothing.


	2. Chapter 2

Dean stood in silence with the angel hanging off of him. He was listening to Cas whimper and mourn. Dean wanted to say so much; he wanted to console Cas and to tell him everything would be all right, that it would all work out, but no words came. Castiel believed that there was a monster inside him. If anyone knew what that felt like, it was Dean. All Dean had ever known is to kill the evil, but even so he had the blood of innocent people on his hands. But unlike Cas, Dean knew how to bury the pain so deep that it almost didn't exist. Cas, on the other hand, was being torn apart at the seams, and Dean was being forced to watch every single second of it.

"Cas lets go and clean you up." Whispered Dean, Castiel didn't respond. His eyes were wide open; he was staring at the floor. He was staring at the glass that was now covered in his blood. Dean decided to try picking Castiel up for the third time that evening. He reached under the angel's arms and helped him up and into the bathroom. He tried to sit Castiel as gently as possible on the toilet seat. He searched the bathroom for a pair of tweezers; he found one in the small medicine cabinet. Dean took one of Castiel's hands and started to pick the glass out of his knuckles as gently as he could. Castiel easily could have healed himself with the power of his grace, but with the mental state that Cas was in then, he couldn't open a Band-Aid. Castiel's head started to droop forward, causing him to start to slide off of the toilet. "Damn it, Cas," Dean whispered as he tried to push Cas back onto the toilet seat. Eventually Dean gave up; he let Cas's head rest on his knee. Cas started to whimper quietly. He continued to pick out the glass in Cas's hands. Each piece of glass made a small 'clinking' noise as it fell into the sink. As painful as it must have been, Castiel remained still. Even as Dean probed deeper into his gashes to get the smallest pieces of glass out, Cas didn't flinch. Dean worked quickly. After all of the glass was out of his knuckles, Dean ran Cas's hand under cold water. The angel let out a quiet yelp and tried to pull his hand away. Regardless of Cas's objections, Dean got his hands clean and bandaged. For the last time that night, Dean lifted Cas up off of the toilet and onto his bed. The sudden movement caused the angel's breath to hitch mid-breath. All of the anger that was written across the angels face earlier was replaced with drowsiness; Cas's eyes were barely open. Dean took off the angel's trench coat before pulling the covers over him.

Dean sat quietly on Sam's bed until he was sure that Castiel was asleep. When Dean was sure, he crept outside the motel room and called Sam. When he picked up, Dean said, "Sammy. You need to get back the motel as soon as possible. We've got an angel problem." "Ok what happened?" Dean paused. How was he going to answer that? "Um, Sammy? I think the angel is finally broken." Before Sam could retort, Dean closed the phone. There was so much that he didn't say. He didn't say how he was the one to break him. He didn't say how he watched the angel try to commit suicide, and how it was almost too late. He couldn't say that, especially not to Sam, one of the people he had to stay strong for. Dean walked into the motel room and started to clean up the mess that Cas had made. By the time he was done picking up all of the shattered glass, Dean had cuts on his hands as well. He cleaned them out and sat down on the chair that Cas had thrown and watched Cas sleep.

The night was long and slow for Cas. Even after Sam rushed home and Dean had explained what happened, Dean refused to go to sleep. Sam eventually crashed on the bed next to Cas's.

Dean had rested his head in his hands. His mind was racing; how could he sleep after what he just witnessed? As Dean's mind dove into its darkest depths, it started. Castiel started to whimper. Then he started to scream. He was screaming for his daughter, and then for someone else. He was screaming for Dean. This wasn't light screaming either; this was a scream of pure terror. Castiel's face contorted and twisted in a way that almost made him look inhuman. At first, all Dean could do was watch. Dean's blood felt like it was made of led; it was holding him down and not allowing him to move. Castiel started to writhe in pain. Dean couldn't breathe. He couldn't move. Eventually the screaming woke Sam up, and he woke up Cas. "Cas! Come on! Wake up man!" Sam started to shake him vigorously. Dean sat still. Cas woke up flailing; Sam was trying to hold him down. Sam glared at Dean as if he was saying, "Come on! Help me out here?" But Dean didn't move. Sam eventually pinned Cas down; he held him like that until he fell asleep again. Even after he fell asleep, the look of agony stayed plastered to the angel's face. Sam dragged Dean outside the motel room. "What the Hell was that, Dean?" Sam yelled. "I don't know Sammy! I guess I just fell asleep." "Bullshit! I saw you watching the whole thing!" Dean didn't respond to that. Why didn't he help? He easily could have. It was almost as if he was in a trance. He didn't want to have to face Cas again. He didn't want to watch the angel almost kill himself. He didn't want to be the one who dealt with Cas. He knew that it made him selfish, but he couldn't help himself. If Cas went down, then Dean would too. Dean needed Castiel too much, and the thought of being without him- he didn't want to think about it. Instead of saying this, Dean said, "I don't know, Sammy. I am tired and I wasn't thinking straight. I am sorry." Sam studied Dean's face, debating whether or not to believe him. Still skeptical, Sam said, "Fine. You crash then, I'll stay up to watch Cas." Dean nodded and walked back into the hotel room.

Dean woke up early the next morning. Sam had fallen asleep in his hands, and Cas was still asleep as well. Cas looked somewhat peaceful except for the fact that he was gripping the covers of the bed. Cas's knuckles were a pale white and his lips were pinched tightly together. As quietly as he could, Dean got out of his bed and went to wake Sam up. Sam mumbled something about getting breakfast, and stumbled out the door with the keys to the Impala.

Dean went into the bathroom and turned on the shower. He saw the tiny glass pieces in the sink from the night before, and he shuttered. He removed his clothes and stepped into the shower. The hot water poured onto his face and trickled down his spine. He stood completely still, as if he was trying to wash away the memories of the prior night. Dean hair stuck to his face and got into his eyes, but he did not make an effort to move it. He looked directly at the shower nozzle with his mouth slightly ajar. The water poured down his neck and legs. He wished that he could stay there forever. He wished he could flow down the drain just as the water did.

When Dean stepped out of the tiny bathroom, Cas was sitting upright on the edge of his bed. He was looking intently at Dean. His ice blue eyes almost seemed to be piercing right into his soul. Dean started to squirm once he met Castiel's gaze. "Hey Cas." Dean said. Cas took a minute to pause before he responded. "Dean…" Cas looked down at Dean's bandaged hand. "I am so sorry." Dean stared for a second before turning towards the dresser to look through his bag. "Yeah don't mention it, Cas." Dean didn't exactly know what he was looking for in his bag; he just knew that he didn't want to be looking at Castiel. "Dean, last night… I was in a dark place. You must understand that with all of the pressure being put on me, I met my boiling point." Dean stopped moving ad calculated what he was going to say. Although the blinds were closed, sunshine seeped through the motel window, brightening the room. Cas tapped his thumbs on the edge of the mattress in anticipation for Dean to speak. Dean inhaled deeply and said, "Yeah. Well you know what Cas? I have a lot of pressure on me too. But you know what? I got to keep my shit together just like the rest of us do. What would have happened if I hadn't showed up, Cas? Would I have found you dead on the floor? You can't do that, Cas! You can't disintegrate where there are people that care about you! You can't disintegrate when there are people that _need_ you, Cas!" Dean slowly turned around to face Castiel. Dean half expected to see rage on the angel's face, but he saw nothing. Cas was expressionless. Dean took the chair that Cas had thrown the night before and pulled it up right to where Cas was sitting. "Besides Sam, you are my closest family. Family doesn't end in blood. If you were to die, it would be like losing a brother. Cas, I care. Even when you pulled the bullshit with the Leviathans, I still cared. I know I was angry, and part of you deserved it, I think you know that. But I also know that part of it was uncalled for. And I am sorry." Dean looked directly into Castiel's eyes. They were inches apart. Cas looked like he was going to speak, but all he did was nod. Although his mouth did not speak, his eyes did. Dean knew that Cas accepted his apology. Cas took in a shaky breath. "Sometimes I wish I had saved you from Perdition and just left." "Don't be such an idjit." Dean said as a faint smile played across his lips. Dean was about to get up when he noticed Cas. Cas's head was slightly tilted and he was slowly leaning forward, never breaking eye contact with Dean. At first Dean stood still; he couldn't comprehend that Cas was actually doing this. But when Dean felt his breath on his face, he immediately stood up; the chair went flying backwards. "Cas what the Hell are you doing?" Cas jumped in surprise. Shock was written all over his face. "I-I thou-" "Well you thought wrong! What the Hell is wrong with you?" Dean got up and immediately walked back into the bathroom slamming the door behind him. He went to the faucet and turned on the cold water. After ripping off his clean shirt, he started splashing the water onto his face. He grabbed the bar of soap and scrubbed. He couldn't believe that Cas tried to kiss him. Dean knew that Cas was in a state of emotional wreckage, but he didn't know that Cas needed that much support. Cas was his friend. He had never looked at Cas that way. Ever. Dean understood that Cas was in a tough time and that he needed care and time to mend, and that he was very embarrassed and insecure about the way he acted last night. After thousands of years of existence, his armor had finally cracked and everything came spilling out in front of Dean. Cas had trusted him to handle his break down, and Dean hated it. Cas thought that he was showing Dean a sign of respect by letting him through his emotional barrier, but Dean just felt scarred. He never, ever, wanted to see someone he cared about so much that way. Dean could never look at Cas the same way. He once saw the angel as strong and powerful, but now, all he could see is the tip of the angelic blade hovering above Cas's heart.

After another shower, Dean exited the bathroom for a second time. He half expected Cas to have left the motel room; but Cas was lying in his bed fast asleep. Dean plopped himself into the chair he was in before and studied Castiel. Cas had his quirks and his faults, but at the end of the day he was family. Dean watched Cas's chest rise and fall. His breaths were low and deep as if he had finally fallen into a peaceful sleep. Dean knew that the next couple of weeks were going to be tough for Cas. The road to recovery is a long one, and Dean was terrified. He would never admit it if someone asked, but he was. Cas was his responsibility. He was the one Cas chose to trust with his secrets, and Dean felt like he was going to explode. He now had to be strong for one other person. Dean quietly stood up and walked over to the bed Cas was sleeping in. He slipped off his shoes, and then laid down in the bed next to Cas. At first he was still, but after a bit he hesitantly slid his arm around Cas's shoulders. Cas was his responsibility. Not only did he care for Cas, but he loved him. Whether it was in a romantic way or not, Dean still didn't know. But for now the least Dean could do is protect Cas and to let him mend. Dean slowly closed his eyes and drifted off into a dreamless sleep.


End file.
